


Love Is More Thicker Than Forget

by seductivembrace



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 01:30:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seductivembrace/pseuds/seductivembrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander hasn’t seen or heard from Spike in a year. Things would have stayed that way, but love – even if it had just been a spell – is hard to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Xander really didn’t want to be there, but he’d promised. More like had his arm twisted. _Literally_. Dawn wasn’t a true slayer, but she sure trained like one; Buffy had seen to it. It was the tears in her voice as she’d pleaded with him to come, though, that had made him cave. Made him extend his single day debrief with Giles into a week-long layover in London so that he wouldn’t miss the Council’s Halloween party. 

So there he was, dressed to the nines in a black tuxedo – it was either that or full blown 18th century regalia – looking ridiculously out of place with his eye patch and overly long hair. At least he’d shaved. 

He’d nicked himself, of course, and when he’d not felt an invisible presence at his back lean in to lick away the stray drops of blood, he’d been hit with a wave of grief—

Shaking himself at the sudden memory, Xander pushed away from the wall and made for the door. It had been a mistake to come. To _stay_. He wasn’t in a partying mood; he doubted he ever would be again. Better if he had just submitted his report, gotten his new assignment and left on the next flight out of London. 

He was almost to the exit when he felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach.

_What the hell was Angel doing here?_

Then his mind shut down and rage kicked in. If he’d had a stake on him, he damn sure would have used it. Or tried to anyway. As it was, he didn’t even get a chance to lay a hand on the vampire before some invisible force seemed to surround him, preventing him from taking another step forward. 

_Willow_. 

Then Kennedy was there, holding him back. And if he wasn’t mad before…

The elbow to the Slayer’s gut was instinctive, and Xander smiled coldly at her surprised grunt of pain. Her hold loosened and he struggled to free himself. He finally managed to get his right arm free and clipped Angel’s jaw with a wild swing. It made his hand hurt like a sonovabitch, but he didn’t care. He was past caring.

“Willow, so help me, if you don’t get your girlfriend to let me go…” The threat went unfinished.

He was released almost immediately, and he turned an accusing stare on his friend. Soon to be _former_ friend at the rate things were going. “How _could_ you? I told you, no more magic on me. _Ever_!”

“I’m sorry, Xander. But—”

“No ‘buts’. I’m tired of ‘buts’. You just… you don’t _think_. You just— _argh_!” He threw his hands up in frustration. “I’ve gotta go.”

Xander brushed past Angel without another word and left, ignoring Willow tearfully shouting his name. If he stayed, whatever was left of their friendship would be over.

~*~*~*~*~

_Xander awoke to find Spike watching him. If he wasn’t so used to it, he’d be creeped out. As it was he just smiled and lovingly rolled his eye._

_“Morning,” Xander murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to Spike’s lips._

_“Morning yourself, luv.”_

_“How long have you been awake?”_

_Spike replied by taking Xander’s hand and putting it on his erection._

_“That long, huh?”_

_Spike nodded pitifully and Xander had to laugh._

_“Poor baby.”_

_Xander gave Spike a hard squeeze and quickly found himself flat on his back with a horny vamp sprawled on top of him._

_“Xander.”_

_All Spike did was say his name, but it was the way he said it, with just the right mix of love, need, and please can I have you now because if I don’t I’m going to die, that settled in Xander’s chest and made him wonder how he’d ever gotten so lucky to have someone love him so completely as Spike did._

_He nodded and Spike kissed him. Kissed him with tongue and teeth and a little bit of fang, and Xander wasn’t sure if it was his blood or Spike’s that he was tasting, but it didn’t matter. It was perfect._

The knocking wasn’t, however. 

Whoever it was seemed pretty determined too, because it was getting louder, and more insistent and… _voices_?

“… Xander, I know you’re in there. Open the damn door!”

Xander’s eye narrowed, recognizing the voice. Angel obviously had a death wish to show up at his flat. 

He jumped out of bed and paused only long enough to grab his sweat pants off the floor and yank them on and snatch cross and holy water before confronting the vampire. He realized he’d forgotten his eye patch when he opened the door and witnessed the brief moment of revulsion on Angel’s face at having seen his sunken eye socket… quickly masked, of course. He took perverse pleasure in wiping the look off the vampire’s face by pelting him with holy water, and cared not that he was now confronted with the demon standing before him promising all kinds of pain if he were to leave the safety of his home. 

“What are you doing here?” Xander demanded, thrusting his cross in Angel’s face when the vampire took a menacing step forward.

Angel said nothing for the longest time, and Xander matched him glare for glare. Until finally, Angel relented.

“It’s about Spike.”

Xander felt something in the region of his heart clench at the mention of the vampire’s name but allowed nothing of his inner turmoil show on his face as he waited for Angel to say more. 

“He’s missing.”

“So go find him,” Xander snapped back. He made to shut the door; he couldn’t let Angel know he’d scored a direct hit. 

“I can’t.”

“Not my problem.”

“Xander—”

“Not. My. Problem,” Xander reiterated and this time, closed the door with a finality the vampire probably didn’t get. “You saw to that, didn’t you, asshole?” he muttered as he headed towards the kitchen, knowing that Angel could easily hear his parting shot. 

He really needed a drink.

~*~*~*~*~

He managed to make it all the way to China before consciously thinking about Spike and what could have happened to him. It seemed only fair as his dreams were constantly full of the vampire, of the six idyllic months they’d spent together until Angel’s jealousy and Willow’s meddling negated the spell that had taken hold of them both.

Sighing, knowing in all likelihood that he was going to regret getting involved, Xander placed a call to Andrew in London. If anyone could glean the whereabouts of Spike, it was Andrew. He’d proved himself surprisingly resourceful, having embraced the Watcher credo. And, he could be discreet. 

“Xander! How’s China?”

“Just landed, actually. Listen. I need a favor.”

“You want me to figure out what happened to Spike.”

Xander could only shake his head. He should have known the brief scene he’d made at the Halloween party would have made the rounds, and figured it was probably a good thing he’d left London when he had. It meant he’d avoided the “Intervention”. 

“Yeah. If you could,” Xander replied, rubbing at his temple at what was sure to become one whopper of a headache soon. Too much alcohol and too little sleep. Throw in a little jet lag, and yeah. Definitely fun times ahead. 

“Sure. Should I email you what I find?”

“ _No_!” Not if he didn’t want Willow hacking his account. Nowadays he didn’t put anything past her. “Just leave me a message on my phone. I’m gonna turn it off soon and get some sleep.”

“Okay.”

“And, Andrew? Keep this under the radar, would ya?”

Xander hung up, knowing that he’d wake to a message on his phone with some clue as to Spike’s whereabouts.

~*~*~*~*~

Xander deleted the message from Andrew and stared at the paper where he’d jotted down the information on Spike’s last known whereabouts. It had to be a coincidence. Surely Giles hadn’t—

No. There was no way Giles would have deliberately put him in Spike’s path. Not after all the conversations he and Giles had had. His “it’s for the best, Xander” speeches. Like Giles had said – _repeatedly_ – he and Spike had barely even tolerated each other’s presence, though their animosity had thawed somewhat in the wake of Buffy’s death a few years prior. 

At least, that’s what Giles thought. What he didn’t know, what Xander had never told anyone, was that he and Spike had built a tentative friendship, had even gotten together a few times over the last two years.

It had been the spell that had changed things. Turned like into love…

_“Tell me you love me, Xander.”_

_“Of course I do. You know I do.”_

_“Say it.” Spike was almost pleading. Like he knew something was about to happen._

_“I love you, Spike.”_

_Xander reached up and cupped Spike’s cheek, urged him to lean down for a kiss. Spike complied, but only for a moment. Rearing back almost as soon as their lips touched as the smell of sulfur and magic suddenly seemed to taint the air and take hold._

_When the dust settled, the spell having been broken, they’d still been intimately joined. Both opened their mouths to say something. Anything._

_Instead, they both looked away. Spike pulled free – and wasn’t that awkward, having Spike’s dick up his ass – and sat on the side of the bed staring at the wall, shoulders slumped. He seemed almost fragile sitting there._

_Xander reached out a hand as if to comfort him, then quickly snatched it back, instead using the opportunity to get out of bed and dressed. He left the room and was confronted by a smug Angel and a magic-wiped Willow, who had no clue as to the damage she’d just wrought._

_Somehow a stake materialized in his hand and he lunged forward, determined to kill Angel for doing this to him. To them. He was caught from behind before he had the chance, Spike easily disarming him._

_Angel’s gaze had held a note of superiority, of triumph, and Xander couldn’t take it anymore._

_“Oh god. I’m gonna be sick.”_

_Xander twisted free of Spike’s hold and raced for the bathroom._

_He wasn’t sure how long he spent in there. Long enough for Spike to come check on him and for Xander to scream back to be left alone. When he finally emerged, the place was deserted._

_Wanting to put the matter behind him, because he could deny like the best of them, he grabbed a duffle bag, shoved a few day’s worth of clothes in it, snatched his wallet from the nightstand and left. He didn’t bother with a note. Besides, what would he say? The spell made me do it?_

It wasn’t a spell that had him retracing Spike’s steps that day, or the next. Finally catching a break the third day, the information nearly costing him his _other_ eye. Thankfully the demon had settled for the wad of cash thrust his way.

Now armed with a destination and enough artillery to put a Marine recon team to shame, Xander set out to find his wayward vamp. No, not his. _Spike_. He was setting out to find Spike. 

Because they were friends. Well, not friends, _exactly_. Not after all that had happened, and hadn’t happened, this last year. They weren’t enemies. At least not any more…

They fought for the same side? He was just looking out for one of the good guys? That sounded corny even to his own ears.

Suffice to say, they were… _something_.

~*~*~*~*~ 

“Jesus, Spike,” he muttered under his breath as he knelt down beside the beaten and bloody vampire. His body was covered head to toe in bruises, his face barely recognizable. If not for the bleached blond hair, Xander would have had cause to wonder if it was really Spike.

Nodding to the skittish slayer, Li, a new recruit he’d found – because he was all about multitasking, especially when it garnered him muscle for a rescue mission – Xander gently lifted Spike’s upper body and waited as Li did the same for his legs. 

He heard something or someone moving his way, and Xander sacrificed hurting Spike further rather than risk getting caught by hefting Spike over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, leaving Li free to lead the way out. Thankfully, or perhaps not, Spike didn’t make a sound when his stomach connected with Xander’s shoulder the first time, or the many times after as he was jostled while Xander jogged behind Li as they made good their escape.

A rather easy escape, now that he thought about it… but not for long. He was soon too busy worrying about getting Spike settled in the car without hurting him further, getting a blanket wrapped around his cold, naked body. But what consumed him was the fear that Spike was too far gone to be saved. 

He was far too quiet for Xander’s peace of mind. Spike had made not a peep – no moan or grunt, not even a grimace of pain – as Xander had gotten him inside the hotel suite Giles had secured for him for his assignment in China. 

Spike needed blood, and fast. The stronger the better, though he couldn’t very well ask Li to open a vein. Hell, it had taken a lot of negotiating skills on his part just to get her to come along, let alone help, once she found out she was saving a vampire. 

“But he has a soul,” he’d explained in broken Chinese.

And hadn’t that been a laugh, using Buffy’s words to rationalize his actions to a slayer.

He assured Li he’d be fine being left alone, gave her the key to the adjacent room, and watched her leave. 

“Don’t think this is going to become a habit,” he told Spike and grabbed his knife out of its sheath and sliced into his wrist. Yet, even as he said the words, he knew it could easily happen. He’d shared his blood often with Spike when they’d been lovers. 

At first, the blood just trickled into Spike’s mouth, and Xander massaged his throat to try and help him swallow it down. It was slow going, more miss than hit, with a good majority of Xander’s blood spilling out of Spike’s open mouth and down his chin. But after a handful of half-hearted swallows, Spike’s mouth finally closed around Xander’s wrist. He winced reflexively, knowing it had to hurt Spike as his demon came forth. 

When Spike’s fangs penetrated his flesh, Xander was hard in an instant, and he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning out loud when Spike started to drink on his own.


	2. Chapter 2

Spike was ready to die, and for once, his demon was in full accord. He’d known from the start that he wouldn’t be returning from this mission, but he’d just nodded when Angel told him what was needed. Of the two souled vampires, he was more qualified as being “someone worthy” since he’d actually saved the world and had sacrificed himself in the process, or so Angel had hypothesized. He probably could have told Angel that his people had gotten the translation wrong, that it was “the one who is worthy” and not “someone worthy” – and that no matter how much good he had done, at heart, he was still a demon, so he’d never be worthy. At least not for this. He could have, but… 

What was the point? 

Now someone was trying to feed him, to make him live, when all he wanted was to dust. And he couldn’t struggle, couldn’t say no – he was too weak to do anything more than lie there and take it. Choke on the blood that would prolong his life. If their intention was to make him suffer, they’d succeeded. The demon was helpless but to respond when presented with blood, and from the source no less. 

Then he actually got a taste of what he was being fed. 

Xander? 

It hurt like hell, but he managed to crack one swollen eye open. 

A ghost. It had to be a ghost. There was no way Xander— No, it was a trick! 

But blood didn’t lie. 

“Xander?” His voice was weak from disuse, never mind the torture he’d been made to endure. 

“Hey, Spike.” 

Spike felt fingers card through his matted hair, in the one spot on his body that didn’t hurt. He closed his eye and gave himself over to that soothing motion. 

It had to be a dream, Xander’s being here, but for once, he didn’t mind. For the first time since Angel had Willow end the spell, his dreams didn’t cut him to the bone. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

The next time Spike woke, he realized he was lying on a couch, a blanket covering him from shoulders to feet. The agonizing pain that his body had been made to suffer was nothing more than a dull roar now, easily managed. He realized why when he felt the tube down his throat. Went to pull it— 

“Don’t take that out unless you’re up to feeding on your own.” 

Spike zeroed in on the voice, and sure enough, it was Xander. Again. 

He yanked the tube out of his mouth and tossed it aside. 

“Xander?” It came out more of a croak. 

“Yep.” 

“Xander?” 

“And again I say with the ‘uh huh’. How do you feel?” 

Spike blinked. Xander had smiled. 

Xander had smiled. At him. 

It took a minute before the question penetrated enough for him to answer. 

“Like I went up against a pack of Fyarl and lost,” he said ruefully. 

“Well, here,” Xander said, holding out a mug of blood. “Hair of the dog, er… Fyarl, that bit you.” 

Surprisingly, Spike was able to sit up and reach for the blood without any help. He wondered just how much Xander had fed him while he’d been out of it and just how long he’d been doing so. He couldn’t help but notice that his wounds were all but healed; the only proof that he had of his capture were the fading bruises to his body and the ache of recently healed bone. 

“Ta,” he replied, nodding his thanks. 

He sniffed the mug and easily recognized that it was human but shrugged and drank it down in a few quick swallows. He rather doubted Xander had humans tied up in the kitchen just waiting to be tapped for a pint or two. 

“More?” Xander asked when he held out the empty mug. 

Spike just nodded and watched in confusion as Xander walked away. This time he easily heard the refrigerator door opening and then the microwave whirring to life. The ding sounded and then Xander was back with a fresh mug. 

“I bet you’d like a shower.” 

More than anything, Spike wanted to say, but he didn’t think he had the strength to stand, let alone remain so for any length of time. He looked longingly in the direction of the bathroom but shook his head. 

Xander obviously hadn’t noticed, or was ignoring him, because a moment later, he was lifted, blanket and all, into his arms. 

“Xan?” The pet name slipped out like the past year had never been. Thankfully Xander didn’t call him on it. 

“It was a rhetorical question, Spike,” he said instead. “Well, not really, as it wasn’t exactly a question, more like a statement of fact. But, you’re getting a shower. Not to hurt your feelings or anything, but you stink. So shower. Now.” 

Ok, now Xander was babbling. What did he have to be nervous about? 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Spike had to admit, the hot water felt heavenly. So, too, did the hard body pressed up against his back. Barring the erection digging against his backside, Xander’s touch was impersonal as he washed away the dirt and dried blood that had caked his body, then set to washing his hair. Only when he was finished and the water had run clear did Xander cave to the emotions that had been coursing through his body from the moment he’d stripped off his clothes and helped Spike into the shower; he clung to Spike and sobbed brokenly into his shoulder. 

He just wished he was able to hold Xander. 

The storm was over almost as quickly as it had begun, neither acknowledging Xander’s brief lapse. The water was turned off and Xander shuffled them both out of the shower, got them wrapped up in towels, and into the bedroom. There he seemed to flounder, and it was Spike that took over, getting them shed of towels and settled in the single King-sized bed. They gravitated together without conscious thought, much like they had when they’d been under a spell, with Xander settling his head in the crook of Spike’s neck, one arm wrapped around Spike’s middle. 

“I wanted to kill him,” Xander said, and Spike knew who he was talking about. He’d thought the same himself at one time. “I still do. And Willow… how could she—?” 

“Shh…” Spike soothed, rubbing the arm that was wrapped around his waist. “She was just trying to protect you. It was a spell, Xan.” And though it killed him to say it, added, “What we had, what we were to each other, it wasn’t real.” 

“It was real to me.” 

It had been real for Spike too. More real than what he’d had with Buffy… or even Drusilla. For all that it had been an illusion. 

Having it ripped away had broken him far worse than the Initiative had done when they’d shoved that chip inside his brain. But that had paled in comparison to him coming home and finding Xander gone. No note. No “fuck off, Spike”. 

Nothing. 

Save an eerily quiet apartment and too many memories. 

After that, he’d taken any and every assignment Angel had thrown his way – the more dangerous the better – while at the same time, ignoring every attempt Angel made at trying to engage him in conversation, to hear him explain why he’d done what he had done. 

“I know,” he said in response to Xander’s confession. 

What else could he say? 

Tell Xander that spell aside, he couldn’t stop thinking about him, even a year later. That a day didn’t go by without him remembering something from their time together – the first time they made love, the taste of Xander’s blood, waking each morning with Xander wrapped around him like some bloody electric blanket – and his heart would break all over again. 

There were so many things Spike could have said; instead he just hugged Xander close, whispered, “I know,” once more. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

At some point, Spike and Xander fell asleep… but not for very long. They spent the majority of the night filling each other in on what they’d been doing the past year – both talked about their reasons for being in China; Xander, his globetrotting as he tracked down slayers and other odd jobs Giles needed; Spike, his various missions while helping Angel fight the good fight. 

At the mention of Angel’s name, they fell silent, each loath to discuss the vampire that had caused them both so much pain. It hung there between them like a glowing white elephant in an otherwise darkened room – Angel’s desire for his own relationship with Spike that had been the motivation behind him, first, discovering the spell that had been cast on Spike and Xander, then convincing Willow to break it. 

Spike wanted so much to allay Xander’s fears of him ever viewing Angel as anything other than a pain-in-the-arse sire. That there was just too much bad blood between them to his ever warranting Angel a second chance. 

But that would mean laying his heart on the line. 

Instead the silence lengthened like a chasm between them, slowly driving them apart. 

When Xander eventually pulled away, Spike reluctantly let him go. Spike listened as he settled himself on his side of the bed and knew the moment he finally fell asleep. 

Sleep for him, however, was a long time coming. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

When Spike woke, he knew right away he was alone. For one heart-stopping moment, he thought Xander had done a runner on him again, but then he happened to spy the piece of paper lying on the bedside table. 

Still, he hesitated reaching for it. Just because Xander had left him a note, didn’t mean that it was necessarily a good thing. His hand shook as he reached for the piece of paper, then he berated himself for being an idiot and snatched the thing off the table. 

Spike, 

Blood is in the fridge. I have a few things to wrap up. Be back later. 

Xander 

As far as notes went, it wasn’t the best one he’d ever received from Xander. But then, it wasn’t a “fuck off, Spike” either. Rather than dwell on the things Xander hadn’t said, he took the note at face value – Xander was looking after Spike’s welfare, and he wasn’t bailing. At least not yet. 

Smiling, Spike swung his legs over the side of the bed and took his time standing up. Surprisingly, he had no trouble supporting his own weight. Blood and sleep had done wonders in helping his recovery along. 

He ambled into the kitchenette and fixed a mug of blood, took a long, hot shower, then plopped down on the couch wearing one of the hotel’s bathrobes and watched television as he waited for Xander to return. 

Several hours went by where he wondered what “things” Xander had to wrap up, and why it was taking him so long. Another two before he started to worry. Then worry some more when yet another hour went by with no sign of Xander. He was just about to contemplate raiding Xander’s suitcase for some clothes when there was a rattling at the door. 

Spike was up across the room before the key could engage, yanking the door open. His “where the bloody hell have you been?” died on his lips when Xander collapsed into his arms. 

“Hey, Spike,” he said with a smile, then promptly passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

It took some maneuvering on Spike’s part, but he managed to get the door shut and Xander settled on the couch. Spike quickly divested Xander of his clothes and tried to figure out where Xander was hurt, only to frown when his skin bore no obvious signs of trauma. 

He couldn’t help noticing the platinum bracelets and anklets – all about two inches in diameter – on each of his limbs, or the matching crown on his head.

“What the bloody hell have you gone and done, pet?” 

The softly uttered question wasn’t necessary, of course. He easily recognized the five pieces of warrior’s armor that signified its dormant state, having been up close and personal with the last who had worn it.

It had been his mission to secure the armor for himself so that it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands, a once in a lifetime opportunity, as it was rumored that the protectorate had suffered life-threatening injuries and had been lying in wait for his replacement. Spike had been unsuccessful, and had nearly paid for the failed attempt with his life. 

Probably would have, too, he thought, if not for Xander’s timely intervention, and winced in remembered pain.

Seeing Xander now, he had to wonder if this wasn’t meant to happen all along. The armor pieces seemed made especially for him, as did the thin band that circled his head, proclaiming him to be the new _Protettore_. 

The one worthy.

 _Bloody hell._

He had some calls to make. 

Spike started with the watcher, reaching him by fishing Xander’s cell out of his pants pocket and scrolling through the phone’s address book until he’d found the number. The call was answered on the second ring.

“Xander? Is that you?”

“No. It’s Spike. And before you get your knickers in a wad, the boy is fine. Just…”

“Just what, Spike?”

Spike sighed and replied, “What do you know about the Protettore?”

The silence on the other end was deafening.

Giles eventually stated that yes, he had a passing knowledge of the Protettore, but thought it to be an urban myth as there was no written record of the protectorate, at least none that the Council had in its possession. The two quibbled back and forth for nearly an hour, and in the end, Spike reluctantly agreed to return to London with Xander in tow so they could research the matter further. With that out of the way, he placed a second call to Angel, briefly apprising him of the situation and that he had things in hand and would call him from London in a few days.

“I’ll meet you there.”

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, mate. Xander is the Protettore and he really wants you dead. I mean _really_ wants you dead. You go up against him and you’ll bloody well lose.” Angel was a pain in the arse most days, but Spike wasn’t quite ready to cart the git’s ashes around in some bloody urn for the rest of his unlife.

“And what about you?” Angel wanted to know.

“What about me? Still here, aren’t I?”

“For now. Xander—”

“Look, Angel, Xander’s not gonna hurt me,” Spike interrupted. He really didn’t want to listen to a lecture right now. Especially not from Angel. Not after nearly being made to suffer one with the watcher. “I’ll call you in a few days, alright?”

“Fine.”

The line disconnected and Spike rolled his eyes at Angel’s theatrics. The ponce really could be a drama queen at times.

With nothing else to do while he waited for Xander to wake up, Spike snatched the comforter from the bed and joined Xander on the couch. If he was lucky, he’d get a few more hours of sleep before his world fell apart again.

~*~*~*~*~

When Xander awoke, he could remember nothing of the events that had transpired from the moment he’d left the hotel until his return. 

“What do you mean you don’t remember? Bloody hell, Xan—” Spike leaned in to touch Xander’s cheek, an attempt to soothe. He never got the chance.

“I. Don’t. Remember,” Xander reiterated, pronouncing each word distinctly. He drew the blanket around him like a shield and got to his feet. “Don’t you think…?” he paused and shook his fist, drawing attention to the metal bracelet secured about his wrist. “I want to know how I got these, Spike. And why.”

It was the perfect opening.

“Should prolly go back to the watcher then. Let him suss this out.” Spike made the suggestion and waited for the fallout. After their semi heart-to-heart last night, he knew that Xander spent very little time around his friends – at least he hadn’t for the last year. 

There was a lot of grumbling on Xander’s part, but he eventually agreed to return to London and let Giles and the others poke and prod – provided Spike stayed with him for the duration. 

“You will remain by my side,” Xander had intoned, sounding so very like the Protettore in that moment that Spike had just nodded his agreement, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He wasn’t foolish enough to deny Xander anything when he spoke like that… not if he expected to live.

Xander had blinked and the moment had been over and he was once more his Xander. Or at least the Xander that Spike remembered, complete with pain-filled eyes and don’t touch me vibes.

Spike refused to read anything into the barely couched demand, instead saying nothing as Xander got them both booked on a nighttime flight to London tomorrow night. When he heard Xander ask for first class, he could only blink and stare.

“What? I’m not traveling fifteen-plus hours with my knees tucked to my chest. Besides, it’s the Council’s dime.”

Xander thanked the person on the phone as the reservation was confirmed and hung up, then treated Spike to a once-over. Spike could feel himself stir beneath the robe he wore. He refused to hide his reaction, though, and it was Xander who ended up looking away first, just a hint of a blush staining his cheeks.

“Gonna need some clothes,” he mumbled. “Can’t very well fly internationally in only a robe. At least not without breaking all kinds of indecency laws.”

~*~*~*~*~

Spike stood outside the main entrance of the new Council Headquarters and struggled not to fidget. It wasn’t so much showing up together with Xander that had him nervous. That he could take in stride, especially since he’d already spoken with Giles on the phone the previous day. 

No, it was Xander’s demeanor that worried him. The closer they’d gotten to London, the less he’d been like his Xander and more like the Protettore. Even the clothes Spike now wore seemed to be influenced by the _otherness_ that was the protectorate; a mesh of metal and black leather covered him from head to toe. Xander had nodded decisively at seeing the results of his shopping spree, a fierce look in his eye.

Spike hadn’t argued. For one, the clothes weren’t that far off from what he normally wore, and the color suited his mood. Besides, Xander had picked them out. Pouf-y reason, to be sure, but there you had it.

The door opened suddenly and Giles was there, Willow and a handful of slayers crowding in behind him, tittering excitedly.

The change in Xander was instantaneous. One minute he was standing there, dressed in similar fashion to Spike. The next, he was covered from head to toe in metal armor.

Spike didn’t know if he should take up a similar battle stance or wait Xander out. He was leaning more towards fighting. Strange, but true. 

“Xander?” Giles stammered out.

“You will make welcome my second,” Xander demanded without preamble.

“Yes! Yes, of course. Spike… do, please, come in. Come in. Both of you.”

Giles’ genuine invitation seemed to defuse the tense moment. The armor slid away and Xander was back, giving Giles a cheerful, “Hey, G-man!” as the man backed up to let them inside; he pointedly ignored Willow. Spike followed behind, eyeing Willow and the other slayers warily before trailing after Xander and Giles. Thankfully, the girls didn’t follow – probably because of Xander’s subtle brushoff – and the group eventually broke up, returning to whatever it was they were doing prior to his and Xander’s arrival. 

“Tea?” Giles asked, reaching for the phone on his desk to summon his secretary. 

Xander shook his head. Spike did too, adding, “Won’t say no to some of the good stuff I know you’ve got tucked away in the bottom drawer though.”

Giles glanced at Xander, seemed to think about it for a moment then sighed, nodding. “I suppose the situation does warrant it.” He collapsed into his chair, looking far older in that moment than he ever had. 

While Giles retrieved the bottle of whisky, Spike made himself useful and got three glasses from the cupboard beneath the small table that was situated between his and Xander’s chairs. Giles didn’t skimp on the liquor, pouring out two fingers full in each; he pushed one towards Spike, saying weakly after taking a sip out of his own glass, “Second?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, mate.” 

Spike glanced out of the corner of his eye at Xander to see if he would say anything. He wasn’t paying either Spike or Giles any attention, too busy looking around the room as if seeing Giles’ office for the first time.

“Xander? Giles wants to know why you referred to me as your second.” 

Spike wanted to know as well, but figured Xander would be less likely to get upset with Giles posing the question; Xander’s moods had been all over the place since landing in London.

So far as he knew, the Protettore worked almost exclusively alone – much like the slayers of old. Yet there was a little niggling thought, buried in the back of his mind that said he _should_ know. That in this, he’d been deemed worthy – a proper companion and right hand man to the Protettore. 

Xander’s intense stare zeroed in on Giles then shifted to Spike.

“Well, pet?”

Xander blinked. “Well what, Spike?”

“You named me your second.”

“I did? Second what?”

Spike rolled his eyes. It was the Glory situation all over again. Across from him, Giles had picked up a pen and was busy scribbling away on a pad of paper. 

“Well,” Spike said, standing. “I’ll leave you to it then. Gonna find a place to bunk down for the day. I’ll check in with you this evening.”

He’d included both Giles and Xander in that statement, so he was surprised to see Xander stand as well. 

“Uh, pe—erm, Xander? Don’t you think you should visit a bit?”

“No.”

Giles stood. “That’s quite alright, Spike. I think I’ve got more than enough to keep me busy for the time being. You both are welcome to stay here, of course.”

“I’ve got it covered, G-man.” _Xander again_ , Spike thought. “Spike can crash at my place.”

Giles opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it. “Yes, of course. Tomorrow night then?”

~*~*~*~*~

Neither said a word on the short taxi ride to Xander’s flat. Spike’s eyes widened briefly when he took note of the Park Lane address, but offered up no comment. It was about time the Council looked out for Xander. A few years too late in his opinion, but better late than never. 

Xander paid the cabbie and the two got out and walked up to the front entrance. 

“I’ll go out later and get some blood and a few groceries,” Xander said as he unlocked the door and stepped inside. Added, “Come in, Spike,” before Spike could mention that he needed an invitation.

Spike stepped over the threshold and glanced around the spacious one-bedroom apartment. The place was well appointed, if dusty from disuse. It was obvious that Xander hadn’t been there for some time. Or, if he had, he’d not stayed for very long.

“Nice place,” Spike commented as Xander wandered off towards the kitchen, probably to take stock of what he’d need to buy.

Xander returned to the living room looking slightly confused, as if part of him was trying to make sense of it all. 

“Xander…? Pet…?” Spike added when Xander continued to stare off into space. He finally walked over to Xander and laid a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Xan?”

“I didn’t think you’d ever be here,” he whispered. There was a sheen of tears in his eye as Xander looked at him. Xander again. _His_ Xander. 

“Xan…” Spike moved forward and cupped Xander’s face. “I’m here. For as long as you’ll have me. I’m here.” 


	4. Chapter 4

When Xander kissed him, Spike was lost. He wasn’t sure how they made it to the bedroom, or when their clothes disappeared. They collapsed onto the bed, and Spike shuddered when Xander stretched out on top of him. 

He’d forgotten how warm Xander was. 

“Xander…” His name was drawn out in a husky growl that produced a similar shudder from Xander. 

Spike arched into the body above him, telling Xander without words what he wanted. He said it anyway though, just in case. “Want you.”

Xander seemed slightly distracted while kissing him, but Spike figured out what he’d been doing a minute later when a lubed finger circled his hole then pushed its way inside. Spike hissed in a breath and released it in a rush. Another finger soon joined the first, stretching him with a slight burn of muscles. Just the way he liked it.

Spike hadn’t been with anyone in the year since Xander had left. Hadn’t wanted to either. After Xander, he’d just not been interested. He’d been so totally vested in Xander, heart and soul – _demon_ – that when it had ended he’d been… _lost_. 

Even Angel with his unsubtle hints at rekindling their relationship hadn’t been enough to give up the memory of what he and Xander had shared. Not that Spike would have ever contemplated being with him in that way. Angel had been the reason behind his and Xander’s breakup, and that was something he just couldn’t get past.

Now Spike was experiencing it again, that sense of _rightness_ he felt when he was with Xander – that he was where he was meant to be, _who_ he was meant to be with. 

And this time it was without the benefit of some spell or other mystical influence. 

Or so he hoped.

“Xander?”

“Yeah?” Xander’s voice.

“Just…” _Wanted to be sure_ , Spike didn’t say. The Protettore seemed to appear at odd times, and Spike really wanted it to be his Xander. His Xander who was touching him in the best of ways, twisting his fingers just so. “ _Xander_ …”

“Tell me you’re ready,” Xander begged, and all Spike could do was nod emphatically that yes, he was more than ready. Way past ready.

Spike thought he heard an “oh, thank god,” but then it didn’t matter because Xander’s fingers were gone, and Xander was just… _there_. Filling him, stretching him, making him burn.

“More,” Spike choked out.

Xander nodded into his shoulder and gave Spike what he wanted, pumping his hips faster, his grip tight enough to leave bruises. Bruises that he would revel in until they eventually faded and disappeared.

 _‘Too fast, too fast,’_ Spike chanted in his head. 

It was his first – _real_ – time with Xander and he wanted it to last forever. Wanted—

Spike arched into the teeth that suddenly latched onto his neck hard enough that he’d feel it, but not so hard that they broke the skin. It didn’t matter though. It was enough. His release washed over him and he growled Xander’s name. Felt the demon in him surge forward and want to take, to lay claim. Spike resisted… but just barely. 

“ _Spike_ …” A harsh pant muffled against Spike’s throat, and Xander was joining him. 

In the aftermath, they collapsed together on the bed, and Spike luxuriated in the feel of Xander’s weight on top of him. Objected when Xander made to shift away. 

“Too heavy,” Xander protested weakly. 

“Not,” Spike replied, his arms tightening around Xander’s back. “Feels good.”

“Spike…”

Spike sighed and reluctantly let him go. When Xander did no more than settle at his side and snuggle up next to him, Spike’s pout gave way to a reluctant smile. “Better?”

“Much,” Xander agreed, half draped over Spike, his head now pillowed on Spike’s shoulder, much like he had back when they’d been “together”.

Spike had to admit, Xander was right. 

They fell asleep like that, content to bask in the moment and put off talking for another day.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike woke up next to the Protettore. There was a stillness to Xander that set him on edge. Made him want to move away. And he would have… except Xander refused to let him go.

“ _Spike_?”

Not the Protettore, Xander.

The tension in Spike left him in a rush and he relaxed back into the mattress. 

“Hey, pet.” He smiled shyly.

Xander opened his mouth to speak, but the phone rang. Spike watched him sigh and reluctantly turn away and snatch the receiver off the hook.

“Hello? Oh, hey, Giles… No we’re up… Yeah, okay. Be there in a few.” Xander hung up and turned back to Spike. “Giles wants to see us.”

“Kinda figured that. Just get dressed then, shall I?”

Spike got out of bed and quickly found his pants; they’d been tossed aside last night and were draped over a lampshade. He ignored Xander as he found his shirt, socks and shoes and put them on as well. His movements were jerky, anger and frustration in every line of his body.

_Damn the bloody watcher anyway!_

They’d been having a moment, him and Xander. And it had been ruined.

“Spike…”

“I’ll just wait in the other room. Let you get dressed,” Spike replied, not bothering to turn around.

_“William!”_

Spike froze. He kept forgetting about the Protettore. _Stupid, stupid_ , he berated himself. His whole body stiffened as he heard Xander cross the room. He bowed his head and waited. Subservience didn’t come easy, but he did it rather than risk a confrontation with Xander. 

Surprisingly, the hand that cupped his jaw was soothing rather than harsh. The thumb that brushed back and forth along his cheek, gentle.

“I don’t regret last night, Spike.”

Xander.

Spike risked looking up, and when he did…

“Oh, pet. I don’t either.” He took a step forward and pulled Xander to him, enveloping him in a hug.

“Missed you so much. I—I tried to forget… But—” Xander buried his face in Spike’s neck. A shudder went through his body.

“I know…” 

Oh, how well he knew. Spike had tried to forget as well. What had been the point? It wasn’t like he’d ever cross paths with Xander again, let alone get back the love they’d felt for each other. 

Spike pulled back and forced Xander to look at him. “But we got time now, yeah? See about this. Us?”

Xander smiled reluctantly, nodded. “Yeah.”

“Should prolly see what the watcher wants,” Spike said, changing the subject. He really didn’t want to start blubbering in front of Xander, and that would be likely to happen if they stayed there much longer.

~*~*~*~*~

When they arrived, Giles wanted to speak with Xander alone. Spike shrugged and motioned with his hand for him to go, saying that he’d spend the time looking around.

“Excellent idea. _Excellent_!” Giles agreed. “We shan’t be long.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed at the watcher’s nervous manner, but when Xander didn’t seem to object, let it go. Instead, he turned on his heel and headed for the other side of the building, away from Giles’ office. 

At first, Spike just wandered the hallways. He was restless and figured walking would keep him from wondering just what it was that Giles had to talk to Xander about. Alone.

He finally had enough of wearing out the carpet and yanked open the first door he came to. It turned out to be a library. Deserted, save for Willow. 

Spike turned to leave, but she called out to him.

“Don’t go! Please, Spike… I’m… I just… I’m sorry,” she told him tearfully.

He tensed. Last night he’d been too focused on Xander to bother with Willow. But their confrontation was a long time in coming and there was nothing stopping him now.

“For what, Red?” he asked, ignoring the tears on her face, the tremor in her voice. “For listening to Angel? For breaking us up? What exactly are you sorry for?”

“I—”

“You killed us, Red.”

“But it was a spell!” she cried. “It wasn’t real.”

“Do you think we knew that? Do you think we _cared_? We were happy! Happy! So what if it was a spell, don’t you think your friend deserved a little happiness? After all he’s done? All he’s sacrificed?”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I thought—”

“Stuff it. I don’t care what you thought.” He needed to walk away. Before his anger got the better of him. Before he said something he couldn’t take back.

“ _Please_ , Spike.”

A thunderous boom shook the walls of the building, preventing Spike from saying anything else.

 _Xander_!

He tore out of the room and made a bee-line for Giles’ study. The closer he got, the louder the sound of fighting could be heard. Just before Spike burst into the room, he could hear Giles trying to reason with Xander and… Angel?

_Bloody fuck!_

Spike threw open the doors and took in the scene in a moment. Xander was decked from head to toe in armor and had Angel dangling in the air by his throat – a difficult task given Xander’s slight height disadvantage. Giles was off to the side, metaphorically wringing his hands. There wasn’t much the man could do, given that the two opponents were supernatural beings; he’d be crushed like a bug if he dared get between them.

The room quickly became a shambles as Xander literally wiped the floor with Angel’s hide. Spike was content to watch, because even though Angel appeared to be taking the fight seriously, it was obvious that he was clearly outmatched by the Protettore. 

Then Angel grabbed a poker from the stand of tools in front of the fireplace and hurled it in Xander’s direction.

Spike snapped.

~*~*~*~*~

When Spike came to, Angel’s face was a bloody mess, his eyes closed, his body unmoving. There was a presence at Spike’s back, a firm grip on his shoulders trying to yank him away.

Then voices. Well, one voice. Low. Insistent.

“Enough, Spike. _Enough_.”

His vision cleared and he saw… “ _Xander_?”

“Yep. Xander.” His face was visible, but the rest of his body was still covered in armor. “Now, come away from Angel. Alright?”

“Huh?”

“Let go of Angel, Spike.”

Spike looked down, and sure enough, one of his hands was wrapped around the lapel of Angel’s coat, the other was cocked back, ready to land another blow. 

“Spike, let him go.”

Spike let Angel go. A second later he was pulled back against Xander’s chest, Xander whispering soothing words in his ear.

“Yes… well… I should probably…” Giles sputtered into the silence.

He earned the Protettore’s glare. And his wrath.

“You overstep yourself, watcher.”

Giles didn’t back down. “Be that as it may, Protettore, you have Spike’s freely given admission as to his place at your side. He _is_ your second.”

The Protettore’s brows drew together, but he nodded, appeased. William had indeed proven his loyalty. 

Metal slid away completely, lying dormant once more.

“As to the other,” Giles added, somewhat smugly, “I think you and Spike are working through that perfectly well.”

“What other?” Xander wanted to know. He’d obviously missed a part of the conversation. He really needed to stop doing that.

At that Giles just quirked his brow. Eventually added, “I should probably locate some blood for Angel, as he seems to be leaking all over my carpet.”

Spike laughed. He couldn’t help it. Who knew that the Watcher was a comedian?

~*~*~*~*~

Sometime later, Xander, Spike, and Giles were settled in Giles’ study, the room having been put to rights as best it could. Angel was tucked away in one of the vacant rooms upstairs, recovering. Willow and the other girls had made themselves scarce. 

“So you’re saying that Angel volunteered to be a guinea pig to test my bond to the Protettore?” Spike asked.

Since proving his dedication to the Protettore, and by extension, Xander, there’d been no more “now you see me, now you don’t” moments by Xander. There’d been no shortage of public displays of affection either.

“Not exactly,” Giles hedged, a secret smile on his face.

Seeing what Giles wasn’t saying, Spike couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Well, alright then. Serves the wanker right.”

“Guess this makes us even,” Xander interjected. He seemed almost disappointed.

“Not even close, pet, but it’s a start.”

“So, where will you go?” Giles asked, changing the subject.

Xander shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably back to China, I guess. It’s where the last Protettore was. I’m hoping there’ll be a manual or something.”

Giles nodded, suppressed a sigh. He’d figured as much, but had hoped otherwise. Maybe once Xander settled into being the Protettore, he could ask his questions. 

“Well, if you ever need any help…” 

“We’ll know where to find you, Giles,” Xander finished. He turned to Spike. “We should probably get going.”

Spike nodded, stood. “Prolly ought to say goodbye to your friends. Who knows how long we’ll be gone.” 

Xander stood as well, shaking his head.

“Xander.”

“No.”

“The chit is sorry, pet. Besides, things worked out alright in the end. Go let her apologize. Go on,” he added, when Xander continued to stand there, uncertain. “It’ll give Rupert here a chance to threaten me if I ever hurt you.”

“What—?”

“ _Go_.”

Spike pushed Xander towards the door when he continued to stand there. When he was gone, Spike turned around to find Giles staring at him.

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Spike snorted. “Didn’t have to.”

“I’m just surprised, I suppose.”

“Yeah, well,” Spike hedged. “Xan would never forgive himself if he didn’t set things right with the girl.”

A murmur of agreement was all Giles offered in return.

~*~*~*~*~

Xander knocked on the door; he’d not been here since before the mission that had inadvertently gotten him and Spike together. Something in him dreaded having to talk to Willow, but at the same time, she was his best friend.

It hurt not having her in his life.

She was the one person he could talk to about anything… well, besides Spike. 

He smiled suddenly, glad he wasn’t alone in wanting to make things work. And didn’t that just beat all? Him and Spike in a _relationship_.

But it was their getting a second chance that made it easy to open the door when Willow softly called out a “come in.” Made him embrace his life-long friend when she ran to him crying, sobbing that she was sorry, and to please forgive her.

Which he did.

The End


End file.
